McCoy's Brain

Chapter 2

Kirk

Kirk watched McCoy pace around the room. "Bones, for god's sake hold still. I can't consume this much Saurian brandy, while you bounce around the room. It's making me space sick."

McCoy rubbed his hand across his face. "I'm sorry, Jim, but something's off with our green-blooded hobgoblin."

He frowned, then downed another glass. "I know. Did his check-up come out alright?"

McCoy glanced at his sideways. "For the most part, fine."

"What do you mean, for the most part?"

"Jim, there is such a thing as patient confidentially."

"I'm the Captain and according to Starfleet I have the right to know if one of my crew is incapable of doing his or her duty."

"Jesus, Jim, you're a pain in the ass. Spock, is able to perform his duties with his characteristic Vulcan precision, but his brain waves are just a tad off and his heartrate tended to accelerate, during the exam."

He frowned. "You checked his heart, right?"

McCoy's eyes bulged. "No, I neglected that part of his exam, because I just assumed he didn't have one."

"Okay, okay, Bones, I may be a little too drunk for this conversation right now." Then he laughed.

McCoy didn't join him. "Are you quite through?"

His eyes felt like pebbles of sand grated against around the outside lids, clinging to his eyelashes. "Yes, I'm almost through." In fact, I'm ready to pass out. "Spock's, been through a lot these past few years, the death of his mother, his planet, not to mention the death of Ambassador Spock—himself, and my own resurrection. Combine that with his on again, off again relationship with Lieutenant Uhura, and I'd say you get a somewhat stressed Vulcan."

McCoy sighed, "Don't you start too. I've had enough of that life after death conversation with Spock."

He raised his glass towards McCoy. "Don't knock it 'till you've tried it, Bones."

McCoy grimaced. "Well, when I die I plan on staying dead."

"So, you're saying my resurrection was unnatural and that you shouldn't have attempted it?"

"Damnit, Jim, that's not what I meant. What I meant is that I don't take as many fool-hardy risks as you and your first officer. I plan to live to a ripe old age."

He grinned back at McCoy and raised his glass. "Here, here, Doctor, to your health." The contents burned their way down his throat and he reveled in the fuzzy sensation that followed. "Seriously, Bones, I never saw a bright light, but I did hear voices."

McCoy leaned forward. "What did they say, Jim?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've tried to remember, but I can't. Sometimes just before I wake up, I think I can hear them, then when my eyes open there's nothing, just a vague sense that there's something I've forgotten."

"How different do you think our lives were, in the other timeline?" McCoy asked.

He belched. "Not much, different. We worked hard, played hard, and explored the universe." He paused, then continued, "Actually, I prefer not to think about it. I can't imagine what my life would have been like had my father survived. Then just as I begin to feel sorry about my loss, I think of Spock. Bones, I can't even imagine what it would be like to have Earth destroyed."

McCoy looked off into the distance. "Your whole world gone in an instant."

He sighed. "Bones, this conversation is depressing. Let's change the subject. I'll set up a chess match in the next couple of days, and I'll see if I can crack that hard shell of Spock's."

McCoy sighed. "I must be drunk off my ass to admit this Jim, but our Spock is a lot more sensitive than he lets on."

"You think?"

"I know. I've never seen the kind of devastation on an individual's face, like I saw on his when he came face to face with your corpse. It was a terrible thing to witness, Jim. I wept and trust me we both held each other up. I hope never to see him like that again. So, take care and don't break our hearts by getting yourself killed."

He puckered his lips. "You love me don't you, Bones?"

McCoy laughed. "Shut up, you drunken imbecile."

"I should have you thrown into the brig, for insubordination, Mister," he slurred.

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "I could knock you out with a neruro paralyzer, but it hardly seems necessary."

He wobbled to his feet, then sat back down again. "Whatever do you mean?"

McCoy stepped forward, pushing him with one finger. He fell back on his bed in a heap. "See?"

The room spun in circles. "Fine, you win, but I hope you know I think you're a bad influence, getting your Captain drunk."

"Me? You're the one who smuggled the damn stuff on board." McCoy snapped.

He held his head. "Fine, whatever, we'll continue this discussion tomorrow."

"You bet we will, because you'll be the first one in sick-bay tomorrow, complaining of a hangover."

"You wanna bet?"

McCoy looked down at him. "No, I couldn't, it would like taking candy from a baby."

He wanted to come up with a witty quip, but his mouth refused to move, and his eyelids refused to stay open. Though his body rested, his mind stayed active, attempting to silence the menacing whispers that grasped at the tendrils of his sub-conscious.